Glazed or Frosted
by Theoretical-Optimist
Summary: Ron has a bit of difficulty filling out his Auror paperwork correctly after a late night patrol. Written for Round 2 of The Houses Competition (year two).


House: Gryffindor

Category: Short

Prompt: Frosted

Word Count (without AN): 707

Beta: Tigger

-AN When asked what she thought her character would be most likely to be sentenced to Azkaban for, Natalia Tena (Tonks) responded 'flying while intoxicated'. So now it's a crime in my headcanon. :) An Ode to Charlie Mopps is an Irish drinking song also known as 'Beer, beer, beer.'

* * *

"WEASLEY!"

Ron's head, which had been resting comfortably on his propped up arm as he napped, smashed down onto his desk. He heard a chuckle from the adjacent cubicle.

"Shut up, Harry," he muttered as he massaged his throbbing nose. Ron rubbed the sleep from his eyes and tried to figure out what had woken him from his much needed shut-eye.

"WEASLEY!" bellowed a voice from the Head Auror's office. "Get your arse in here now!"

Ron snapped into action at the request of his boss. Shoving his chair back, he smoothed out his rumpled robes and rushed across the hall.

"Yes, sir?"

Gawain Robards's hard stare penetrated the young Auror, making Ron squirm in discomfort.

"I've been reviewing your paperwork from last night."

"Is there something wrong, sir? I promise, I did it all by myself this time. I didn't even ask Harry or Hermione for help. I made sure not to use an auto-correcting quill this time like you warned me about before. I had it in your inbox first thing this morning." Ron knew he was rambling, but Robards's gaze was making him nervous.

"I appreciate that Weasley. You are improving. But we need to talk about these records." Robards gestured to the open seat. Ron quickly sat and began to review his paperwork.

"See this here?" Robards pointed to a specific section of Ron's report.

 _Time: 2:27_

 _Location: Blackpool_

 _Suspect: Seamus Finnigan_

 _Description: I apprehended male, age 19, on suspicion of FWI, flying while intoxicated. Suspect's eyes were frosted. Barkeep said he consumed half bottle of firewhiskey before mounting his broom._

 _Auror action: I administered field sobriety tests._

 _Results: Fail_

 _Auror action: I popped him on the back of my broom and dropped him back home with Dean._

 _Closed: 2:41_

Ron glanced up with a sheepish look on his face. "I know I broke protocol just bringing him back home. But Seamus is my friend and I wanted to cut him a break. 'Sides, he didn't hurt anyone, unless you count scaring a few nuns when he dropped trou and took a piss off his broom while singing 'An Ode to Charlie Mopps.' Don't worry, I modified their memories."

"Weasley!" Robards barked, effectively shutting Ron up. "That is the first of many things that is wrong with this report. First off, please use the proper method of time keeping." He drew his quill across the page, altering the time to read '02:27' and '02:41' instead. "Second, you need to be more precise with location. Blackpool is a major city. You have to include name of the pub he was drinking at and where the apprehension was made."

Ron nodded. That was easy enough to do in his next report.

"As for dropping him off at home," Robards continued. Ron braced himself for the reprimand. "You're allowed to use your judgment on standard broom traffic stops. You followed protocol by not allowing him to continue to fly. But next time, you need to report where you brought him."

"But I said I brought him home to Dean," Ron insisted and pointed to the line in the report.

Robards pursed his lips. "You may know who Dean is. I may know who Dean is. But that doesn't mean that the poor sod in the filing room knows who Dean is." Ron blushed as Robards's quill scratched across the report. "Use the exact residence in your reports."

"OK. I can do that. I've got another night patrol in a couple days and I promise I won't make those mistakes again," Ron said confidently.

"There's one more thing, Weasley." Robards leveled him with another stare.

Ron gulped. "What?"

"Never describe a suspect's eyes as 'frosted' again."

"Huh?" Ron was confused. "I thought that was the right word."

"Glazed, Weasley!"

"Glazed, frosted, what's the difference? They both describe cakes and doughnuts!"

"Think with your head and not your stomach!" On cue Ron's stomach grumbled. "What I am going to do with you, Weasley?"

Ron gave a sly smile. "I'm hoping right now you're going to send me out for some doughnuts."

Robards couldn't help but laugh. "Fine. Get me a frosted one."

Ron nodded. "Frosted. Got it. Just like a drunk person's eyes."

"WEASLEY!"


End file.
